Throughout the fourteenth and two succeeding centuries Venice was
visited by a constant succession of epidemics of plague. This was the
price she was doomed to pay for the enjoyment of her Oriental commerce.
Standing, as she stood, at the meeting-place of east and west, so
long as the commerce of the east passed to the west by way of Syria
and Egypt, Venice knew no rival but Genoa, until the Turk appeared
at Constantinople to challenge her ascendancy. Plague and commerce
alike passed through Venice on their way to the countries of Central
and Northern Europe. Plague was in some sense the measure of Venetian
opulence, and with the loss of this opulence the number of her plagues
declined.
Venice had two main trade routes by sea,[174] one to the east and one
to the west, and two land routes to the north.
The first maritime route lay down the Adriatic, past the Ionian Isles,
and round Cape Matapan to Crete, where it divided into four branch
routes: (_a_) northwards to the Dardanelles, Constantinople, the
Black Sea, and the Sea of Azov; (_b_) along the shores of the Morea
and through the Aegean Islands to the Dardanelles; (_c_) to the ports
of Asia Minor, Smyrna, and Aleppo, Cyprus, Syria, Alexandretta, and
Beirut; (_d_) to Alexandria and Egypt. These two last branches linked
Venice to the caravan routes that led from Ormuz on the Persian Gulf to
Aleppo and Beirut, and from Suez to Alexandria, and at their far end
penetrated into the heart of Asia, Persia, India, and Cathay.
The second maritime route lay by way of the Adriatic westward to
Sicily, where it divided into two branch routes: (_a_) to Tunis,
Tripoli, and the ports of Spain; (_b_) through the Straits of Gibraltar
northwards as far as England and Flanders, bringing London and Bruges
into touch with the east.
The land routes from Venice to Central Europe lay for the most part
outside the confines of Venetian territory. One passed by way of the
Ampezzo valley northward to the Pusterthal and on to Innsbruck and
Munich; the other along the Po to Brescia and Bergamo, and thence by
Lake Como and the Splügen Pass to Constance. From Constance trade lines
diverged to all parts of Northern Europe.
A knowledge of these routes is necessary to understand the leading part
that Venice and Constance played in the carriage and distribution of
plague.
The discovery of the Cape route to the east in 1486, was the death-blow
to the trade monopoly of Venice. The lines of commerce shifted step by
step from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, and away from the ships of
Venice into those of the Portuguese, Spaniards, English, and Dutch.
The history of plague in Venice is in large part written in her
public monuments: her archives tell the rest. Venice has virtually
no literature of her own: two or three patriotic diarists, and that
is all. Her Renaissance gave birth to no harvest of men of letters:
painting and architecture sapped all her strength. Artists vied with
architects to write her history on canvas or on stone, not for the
enjoyment of private patrons, but for the embellishment of the city of
their birth.
In A.D. 1410 plague swept over Venice and Chioggia. In 1423 another
epidemic was imported from the east. It was this visitation that led
the Venetians to establish a pest-house or lazaretto on the island of
Santa Maria di Nazaret for infected persons and goods. It was supplied
with food, medicine, and medical attendance out of the revenue from
salt. This was the first institution of the kind in Europe, but it
quickly led to the establishment of more elsewhere.
The Government of Venice was never wont to fold its hands when plague
was at its door. So far back as the Black Death they had appointed
three nobles as _provveditori sopra la salute della terra_ to fight
the scourge. In 1468 these were supplemented by the addition of two
inhabitants of each _sestiere_, and in 1485 this commission was
reorganized as a permanent Board of Health. So by the end of the
fifteenth century Venice had organized and equipped an efficient
defensive system against the constant recurrence of plague.
A second lazaretto was established during the plague of 1576 on the
island of Sant’ Erasmo, and in the same year the Republic summoned
learned professors of medicine from Padua—Girolamo Mercuriale and
Giovanni Capodivacca—to identify the disease, and it was no fault of
the Republic that they pronounced it not to be plague.
A curious evidence of the mutual influence of religion and therapeutics
on each other is the fixing of quarantine at forty days, because this
was the period that Christ dwelt apart in the wilderness.
Venetian doctors for the most part seem now to have mended their ways
and devoted themselves loyally to the service of the sick. In a book
published in Venice in A.D. 1493, _Fasciculus medicus Johannis de
Ketam_, the physician Pietro da Fossignano is shown visiting a plague
patient. As he feels the pulse, he holds to his mouth and nostrils
a sponge, steeped in some antipestilential aromatic. Pietro’s death
about A.D. 1400 helps towards fixing the date of this simple clinical
precaution. In later years a special plague dress was devised for
doctors, which was adopted from Italy by France, and of which several
engravings exist of about the time of the 1720 plague of Marseilles
(see pp. 206-8). Ambroise Paré recommends that the material should be
camlet, serge, satin, taffeta, or morocco, but not cloth, frieze, or
fur, which might harbour the poison and carry death to the healthy.
Venice had also her street ambulance in the brotherhood of S. Rocco,
instituted for the purpose of conveying the sick to hospital and the
dead to burial. Their services were sorely taxed in times of plague.
A specimen of the working dress of the Order may still be seen in the
Treasury of the Scuola di San Rocco. It is a loose white cotton overall
with full hanging sleeves. On each side of the chest is an oval white
satin badge, embroidered with red silk and edged with red lace. On one
the figure of Christ is embroidered in silk: on the other that of S.
Rocco with his dog. It is bound at the waist with a corded girdle of
white cotton with heavily ornamented cotton tassels at each end. A deep
peaked hood of the same material completely covers the head, having
only slits as apertures for the eyes. White leather gloves complete
the costume. A similar dress was worn by many of the charitable
confraternities of Central Italy, and is to be seen in several Sienese
pictures (see Plate VIII). It has its modern counterpart in the
operating dress of the aseptic surgeon, but by a queer turn of the
whirligig of time its purpose is no longer to keep infection out, but
to keep it in.
The Guild of San Rocco had come into existence at least as early as
A.D. 1415, but it was not till 1478 that leave was obtained from
the Government to enlist a confraternity under the standard of San
Rocco. Its first meeting-place was the church of San Giuliano, but
in 1485 the guild undertook to build a church for the custody of the
body of the saint, which some Venetians had surreptitiously removed
from Montpellier. Five years sufficed to complete the church, and the
saint’s body was laid in it with great solemnity. The precious relic
was destined to bestow great prestige on its possessors. Of the five
great charitable guilds of Venice, that of S. Rocco was by far the
greatest. From 1516 to the end of the Republic each Doge was enrolled
a member, along with many of the richest merchants of Venice. In this
year the brethren determined to erect a meeting-house adjacent to the
church, which should be an added ornament to the city. So the building
of the Scuola was commenced in 1517 by Bartolommeo Bon, only to be
finished in 1550 by Antonio Scarpagnino.
While the Scuola was in course of construction, the original church
of S. Rocco was found to be insecure, and was rebuilt, but not in its
present form, which is no older than 1725. In 1559 the Confraternity
entrusted its decoration to Tintoretto, and there are still to be seen
there, on the rare occasions when daylight suffices, the four pictures
in which the artist set himself to illustrate the life of the saint.
These are (1) St. Roch in hospital; (2) St. Roch healing animals; (3)
The capture of St. Roch; (4) The appearance of an angel to St. Roch in
prison. The small picture that hangs by a side-altar—the ‘Betrayal of
Christ’, by Titian—has received all the homage that should have been
paid to Tintoretto’s subjects: indeed, the offerings rendered to this
‘miraculous’ picture enabled the guild to rebuild their Scuola. To this
church the Doge came yearly on August 16 to implore St. Roch to ward
off plague from the Republic.
In 1560 the growing wealth of the guild induced them to call in
competition the leading painters of Venice to decorate the halls of
the Scuola. Andrea Schiavone, Federigo Zuccaro, Giuseppe Salviati,
Paolo Veronese, and Tintoretto were all invited to prepare drawings and
submit them to the judges on the appointed day. While the others had
merely sketched designs, Tintoretto had finished a complete picture,
‘St. Roch in glory’, that now occupies the centre of the ceiling of the
refectory. To ensure still further his success, Tintoretto presented
the picture to the guild. From this time until 1588 the decoration of
the Scuola formed the chief part of Tintoretto’s work. By the beginning
of 1566 he had completed the superb ‘Crucifixion’ in the refectory
of the upper hall, and on its completion he was admitted to the
Confraternity, and assigned an annual subsidy of 100 ducats (about £50)
in payment for three finished pictures each year. Here, at any rate,
he found scope for the expression of an inexhaustible fancy: but those
who have attempted to study the paintings of the Scuola will appreciate
something of the difficulties he had to surmount owing to the defective
light which, as in the church, renders the pictures invisible except on
the brightest days.
As Michelangelo had done in the Sistine Chapel, so Tintoretto thought
out in advance a comprehensive and harmonious scheme for the entire
adornment of the halls. The key-note of it all is the dedication of the
Scuola to San Rocco, the patron saint of the plague-stricken, and also
of those who ministered to them. So the paintings in the upper hall
represent acts of mercy and deliverance, illustrated in Christ’s life
on earth. Those in the lower hall of entrance, eight in number, setting
forth mainly the history of the Virgin and her infant Son, form thus
an appropriate prelude to the upper series. Giovanni Marchiori and his
pupils have faithfully pursued the scheme in the twenty subjects from
the life of St. Roch carved in the panelling of the upper hall. The
great staircase that joins the two halls is decorated with frescoes of
plague scenes by Zanchi (1666) and Negri (1673), of little artistic
merit. Yet another memorial of plague survives in the rows of wooden
standard lamps, set round the upper hall, which the brethren used to
carry in processions to the honour of their patron saint.
Tintoretto was still at his work in the Scuola when the appalling
plague of 1575-7 fell on Venice, carrying Titian to his grave, within
close hail of his centenary. While others were hurried away to obscure
burial in the common plague pits of Sant’ Erasmo and the outlying
islands, the body of the old man, who had brought so great glory to
Venice, was accorded the honour of a public funeral by order of the
Signoria. After lying in state it was carried to the beautiful Gothic
church of S. Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, wearing the insignia of Imperial
Knighthood, conferred on him by Charles V, and placed in a tomb at
the foot of the altar of the Cross. Here Titian sleeps his last sleep
unmindful, be it hoped, of the outrage in marble inflicted on his
memory by Ferdinand I of Austria, at the hands of Luigi and Pietro
Zandomeneghi. Titian’s eldest son died with him, and his second son,
Pomponio, a canon of Milan, hastened to Venice, as soon as he was
assured that all danger was past, and quickly dissipated the fortune
that the painter had amassed by the thrift and labour of a lifetime.
For three years this plague devastated Venice, carrying off no less
than 50,000 souls, one quarter of her whole population. The Doge,
Luigi Mocenigo, displayed throughout the utmost courage and devotion.
He himself superintended all the efforts to arrest the plague, and
ministered in person to the sick. He went in solemn procession with
all the confraternities of Venice to the church of S. Rocco, to vow
the erection of another church, if only the saint would intercede
for them. As Cyprian and Gregory had done before him, he addressed
words of consolation and encouragement to his people in the sanctuary
of his cathedral church. But Luigi was dead when the day came for
his successor to summon the people of Venice to St. Mark’s to fulfil
Luigi’s vow.
Picture to yourself Venice one July Sunday under a cloudless sky. From
the pulpit of St. Mark’s some aged patriarch has proclaimed the freedom
of the city from plague. Out of the coloured gloom of the church files
the procession into the dazzling glare of the Piazza. All Venice is
there: Venice is in jubilant mood. St. Mark’s, Ducal Palace, Campanile,
and all the buildings around are gay with carpets and tapestries, with
pictures and gilded shields. Banners of gorgeous colours flutter to
the crisp sea-breeze from the columns of Theodore and the Lion. Amid
wild shouting of people and roar of cannon, and ringing of bells
the procession wheels to the Piazzetta. Before it lies the lagoon,
stretching over to S. Giorgio Maggiore, and away to the Lido beyond,
sparkling and shimmering in the sunlight, like some great scintillating
jewel. God and man seem to have joined hands there to create the
fairest spot of earth. From Piazzetta to Giudecca a bridge of boats has
been thrown over, near half a mile in length. On to the bridge goes
the procession.[175] The guilds and confraternities, displaying their
respective standards and carrying crosses, images of the Madonna and
saints, and reliquaries, lead the way, followed by magistrates, nobles,
and their ladies. Next come the patriarchs, the Church dignitaries, and
canons in their rochets, the friars, chanting, under the banners of
their fourteen orders, the clergy robed in rich copes embroidered with
gold and sewn with jewels, under their eleven banners. Last of all,
accompanied by senators and ambassadors, comes the Doge, Sebastiano
Venier, hero of Lepanto, a noble figure, robed in white with a splendid
mantle of silver brocade hanging from his shoulders. In a temporary
wooden oratory built close to the place where the Redentore Church was
to rise from the plans of Palladio, Mass was sung this day to music by
Giuseppe Zarlino of Chioggia, the Doge’s chief musician. And the sound
of this jubilant day has echoed down the ages and may be still heard
at the yearly _Festa del Redentore_ in July, as the procession passes
over its bridges of boats from San Zobenigo to Zattere, and Zattere
to Giudecca, but shorn of much of its former glory. Where stood the
wooden chauntry stands now Palladio’s church, a plague-spot on the face
of nature. Théophile Gautier, nevertheless, saw beauty in its aspect
by the light of the setting sun. Within there are no pictures and no
memorials of the plague to which it owes its being. A Venetian medal,
showing the Doge with the banner of St. Mark kneeling before Christ,
commemorates this plague.
Venice has other churches to commemorate her plagues besides San Rocco
and the Redentore; oldest of all, S. Giobbe, church and convent, built
in the middle of the fifteenth century (1462-71) by Doge Cristoforo
Moro, the friend of S. Bernardino, and dedicated to the Job of
Scripture who was plagued with all manner of diseases. Over the high
altar was once the famous picture by Giovanni Bellini, now in the
Accademia, of the Madonna and Child enthroned between St. Job, St. John
Baptist, St. Sebastian, St. Francis, and St. Louis of Toulouse. Venice
brought the cult of S. Giobbe along with plague from the east: he is
hardly known elsewhere in Italy.
Only a few years later (1506-18) another plague church, that
of S. Sebastiano, was built for the Order of St. Jerome by the
two architects, F. da Castiglione and A. Scarpagnino. It is the
burial-place of Veronese, to whom most of its decoration is due. The
ceilings of both church and sacristy are enriched with his pictures,
set in deep gilded mouldings. Over the high altar is an ‘Apotheosis of
St. Sebastian’, to whom the Madonna appears in heaven, along with St.
Mark, St. Jerome, St. John Baptist, and St. Catharine of Alexandria.
To the left of the altar is Veronese’s famous ‘Martyrdom of Marcus and
Marcellinus’.
While this church was building Giorgione died of plague. About his four
and thirtieth year he had become wildly enamoured of a young woman, and
when the plague seized her he still paid her secret visits, and taking
the sickness from her lips with her kisses, he paid for his love with
his life.
Last, but best known of all, is the church of S. Maria della Salute,
begun by Baldassare Longhena in 1632, to commemorate the plague of
1630-1, which carried off 46,490 in Venice, and 94,235 in the whole
lagoons. Doge Niccolò Contarini had vowed a church to the Madonna of
Health, if she would deliver the Republic from the plague. During its
building a temporary wooden oratory was built on a piece of land, which
the Knights Templar had bestowed on the Republic, and Doge, Council,
nobles, and people crossed over the Grand Canal by a bridge of boats
to hear a solemn Mass. In the sacristy of Longhena’s church are two
seventeenth century prints, one showing the procession as it crosses
the pontoon bridge, the other, as it files up into the church. Each
year in November the procession starts from St. Mark’s and crosses the
Grand Canal by the Redentore route, and circles round the church to
the entrance facing the Canal. Modern Venice has transformed a solemn
pageant into a fancy fair. These prints show the church as it now
stands, on a platform at the top of a great flight of stairs leading
up from the Grand Canal, but a statue of the Madonna has replaced the
Angel of Pestilence on the summit of its larger dome.
S. Maria della Salute contains many memorials of plague. Over the high
altar is a heavy group of marble statuary by Giusto il Corto. In the
centre sits the Madonna holding her Child, with cherubs at her feet. On
one side kneels a woman entreating her aid: on the other a cherub with
flaming torch expels a plague demon of human form.
In the vault of the choir is a ceiling painting by Fiammingo showing
Venice imploring liberation from plague.
In the sacristy is Titian’s picture of St. Mark with St. Sebastian,
St. Roch, Cosmas, and St. Damian, commemorating the plague of 1512, in
which Giorgione perished (see Plate IX). Here, too, is Marco Basaiti’s
(second half of fifteenth century) votive picture of St. Sebastian,
a fine figure in a beautiful Umbrian landscape, but not the peer of
Sodoma’s saint: and yet another picture of St. Roch, St. Sebastian, and
St. Jerome by Girolamo da Treviso (1497-1544).
FOOTNOTES:
[174] Horatio Brown, _The Venetian Republic_.
[175] Molmenti, _Venezia_.